


Half of a Soul

by moonstonehealer



Series: Half of a Soul [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-23 14:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20341963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstonehealer/pseuds/moonstonehealer
Summary: This is a supernatural story that follows Morgan Taeyeon who until recently knew something in her was different, but she didn't know she wasn't the only one of her kind. Let alone that there are other beings out in the world who make things go bump in the night or those who defend everyone who need it. This is the first book in my book series. I hope you enjoy Book 1!





	1. BEFORE IT ALL CHANGED

MORGAN

THERE WAS ONE THING that was missing from my life. I thought I knew what I was looking for, but I found something even better. Unfortunately, there’s a cost for everything and I had yet to learn it. Growing up in Clementine, Idaho is much different than most people think. We aren’t all potato farmers like we are stereotyped as, we aren’t all basic white girls, and there might not be an ocean, but the Clementine River is our “sea” to swim in. For some, Idaho is the perfect place to move and raise a family but as a 16-year-old it felt like a cage. A cage so confining it’s hard to breathe. The fact that all your family grew up, lived, and died in Idaho doesn’t help. I am the youngest of six kids and had six nieces and nephews by the age of 15. Life on Greenview Court was not normal for my family.

All I have ever wanted to do since an early age was to leave Idaho and start over. Start a life where no one knew me or my family. Only I couldn’t. Life with my family and at my age was holding me down, like ankle chains from medieval times. The kids you grew up with, you’re stuck with, and the guys got less and less attractive each passing year. There were only so many schools you could go to in the county I live in.

My journey begins as a 16-year old whose biggest problem is wanting to feel loved and belong somewhere, but as my story continues, I will wind up an 18-year old with more problems than solutions. But my story doesn’t stop there; it’s just the beginning. There are choices in the lives of everyone around you. I had to choose between happiness and trauma or making it out unscathed from a world unknown. I took the choice of caving in to temptation and embracing fate. I thought I could fight and resist what was coming. I thought if I ignore it, it would go away but fate had another plan. It made life 10 times better and more complicated than I ever could’ve imagined. As wise men say, “Misery loves company.” I couldn’t agree more, and for a girl who is a Lunar, that’s saying something.


	2. A Fluttering Butterfly Emerges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins...

MORGAN

EVERY DAY IS THE SAME: wake up, eat breakfast, almost be late for school, Rocky Medical Arts Charter High School, I go to two classes, have lunch, attend two more classes, drive to Clementine High, have cheer practice there on the varsity team, dinner, homework, sleep and repeat. Nothing is different from that, besides every Sunday and Thursday night after my personal harp lesson, I visit Баба, Gloria, for language education for the one my mother has since forgotten. Bulgarian and Russian are spoken regularly between her and her relatives, but I am learning at an accelerated rate. Every other day that I’m not crowded with obligations, I’m with my good friends Althea “Thea”, Skyler “Skye”, and my cousin Davina who just moved to town. When they’re busy I spend my weekends alone. I need to recharge from social drainage that people leech off my own aura. They are different, no, indescribable to say the least. I am blessed with the ability of magic powers and big-ass angel wings. I have to practice my magic, or my “gift” as I tried to convince myself, but it has festered into my personal curse. Never being able to share with my friends, having no one know my secret, and no one able to understand what it’s like for me, to live in extreme loneliness.

I must have been cursed by something unknown. I don’t know how I got my powers, but they have been manifesting since the age of 15. Freshman year is a difficult adjustment for anyone but add emotionally-fueled powers to a teenager with raging hormones is a whole new ballpark. It’s difficult to explain abrupt explosions, fires indoors, and erratic weather that are all based on my feelings. When I start crying rain ranges from a trickle to a downpour, when I’m angry things suddenly explode, when I get really hurt or confused things sometimes burst into flames, and when I feel threatened and need to run giant, grey angelic wings pop out of my back. The only thing that keeps me sane from the freak show, I call a life, is writing, drawing, and music. Playing the harp soothes my soul when I’m at home. My poetry is how I tame myself around others. Words spew from my mind and before I know it, I’m writing prior to leaving for the bus:

Time is healing/Time is pain/Time ticks by/Never fades from reality/But reality is what I’m trying to avoid/Escaping from pain and heartbreak/Betrayal Loneliness/Sorrow Hunger/Reality is life/and I live/to be free/Free from all that hurts/and fly to love hope and run/Run to happiness

I only know that I’m a something called a Lunar based on reading about it in supernatural books and searching legends. Legends state that a Lunar is a magically infused individuals with the ability of flight from wings. They are believed to have been derived from angels that fell from Heaven for wanting to feel love with the living world. Then there’s one tale of a great purging of magical blooded folk for practicing the “Devil’s Work” during the bubonic plague across the globe. Other than that, there’s no information going deeper into the topic. 

Shaking my head to clear it from concerned thoughts, I snatch my journal from my lap and tuck it in my backpack before running out the door with an apple in hand. I settle on the last empty bus seat, so nobody will get the chance to talk to me. I write more, enjoying the silence but by the time, I arrive to my first period class I’m already irritated with everyone. Waiting outside the room to regain a cool and level head before resuming the smothering of teenage presence, I see the most handsome stranger to grace the planet walking around the corner with another man. Something about him is intriguing and stirs something long buried within myself. A fluttering butterfly emerges. Just as fast as I saw, he was gone and never looked back. I close my eyes and visualize him, trying to remember every detail of him. His 6‘6” lean, flat-muscled, athletically-built body held some kind of secret power of influence behind his care-free confidence. His straight short black hair creates a charmingly put-together look, his brooding face shape, deep green enticing eyes, his broad forehead with a furrowed brow of knowledge beyond his years, a strong bone structure, angular jawline, straight white teeth under a flirty heartwarming dimpled smile that’s unforgettable, and some kind of black tattoo. It peeks out the neck of his black leather jacket on his spine and another around his entire right forearm. The dark grey shirt and black leather boots add to his mysterious and rebellious energy.

The rest of the day was just like every other. Time went by and I didn’t see him again. My mind can’t stop wondering who he was.

After practice one day, the coaches pull me aside, “Something is on your mind. You aren’t thinking clearly and that’s not safe when you’re the flyer. You can hurt yourself, your bases and back-spot. What is so important?”

“I don’t know, just an off day I guess.”

I walk away as they yell at me to get my act together and that competitions are coming up. That I can’t get distracted or have an off day or have my mind elsewhere. Even if I don’t want it to be somewhere else. And I desperately don’t want my mind stuck on a guy I’ve never met.

Rain starts to pour down on all the cars and thunder struck the sky. Lightning was not far behind it. _Oh, the joy of not being able to control anything._ The moon hangs high in the night sky when I step out from the gymnasium to meet the concrete. Once I start to drive home, a heavy drowsy wave leaves my eyes feeling heavy and tired. I can barely see the road, then suddenly a weird white fog starts to settle over the road. It looks like this fog isn’t planning on letting up anytime soon. I can no longer see the dashed lines on the road, let alone a tree. A dark figure appears out of nowhere and I cannot control what happens next.

It all happened so fast, before I could stop the car there was a thud on the hood of the car, the windshield shattered, a thud on the roof, and something hit the road behind the car.

“Holy sh…” Before I could finish that sentence, the silent world around me, in the dead of night, was lost and all you could hear was an ear-splitting crash.


	3. Save Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter that takes on the point of view from a different point of view. This chapter is introducing a new main character that has huge significance to the storyline.

UNKNOWN MAN

AS I WALK TO MY dad’s grey SUV, that he let me borrow for my football equipment, I hear a crash.

_ HELP ME!_

My heart shatters from the voice in my head’s crippling pain. Her broken desperation is stirring my soul in ways foreign to me. My ingrained instincts to protect her take over. Kneeling over in waves of physical pain that is not my own. I pull myself together, before dropping my football pads and bag at my feet. I take off in a dead sprint and within a few seconds, I’m already climbing the mini hill on the side of the road across the mostly vacant parking lot. I look around frantically, _Remember Adam, Remember. Stop. Listen, smell, and look around yourself. _I cannot think rationally if I’m a not in control. I need to calm myself and my buried supernatural senses activate the moment I hear it. The soft and whimpering cries, the smell of fresh blood and gasoline, then an engine explosion bursts my sensitive ears about two miles away. I start to sprint at my full inhuman speed until I find myself on standing in the middle of State Street. 

Reaching out to the voice inside my head, _I’m coming! HOLD ON!_

_ … _The woman’s voice, formerly there, is now silent, and I increase my speed with haste and urgency.

I see a smashed car, upside-down in a ditch along the roadside. With large flames bursting from the engine that seems to have a mind of its own. They are creeping closer to the driver’s seat by the second.

I turn to be greeted by an Erkling’s back to me. One minute here, then gone the next. I don’t even have time to process this unknown threat in my territory, before I see the subtle sign of a life, long hair in the driver’s seat poking out the shattered window. I run over and try to open the smashed in door. I pull and pull but it’s sealed shut from the dancing flames. I search deep within myself and use my wolf’s strength to rip off the door. Sending it flying backwards, I focus on the delicate back of the breathing form. I carefully slip my arms under her armpits and lift her against my body. Cradling the broken and all too still woman, I run to a safe ground, far from the car in case of explosion. Lowering myself to the ground, I sit facing away from the threat and carefully lay her head on my lap. Her unresponsive mind and unsteady breathing are startling to witness when my heart is hurting for her. As if I could will my heart to keep beating for her. I don’t know why I’m so emotionally drawn to her. I have seen her in the hallways, cafeteria, and at practice. Never before has she drawn me in like the moon pulling in the sea or the way flowers bloom and reach toward the sun. But now I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m afraid that if I peel them away from her, even for a split second, she’ll cease to exist and that alone would kill me and push my wolf over the edge.

I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone to call for help. I frantically dial 911 but my voice remains its deceivingly calm edge to it, “Help, there has been a car accident. The car’s engine caught fire and while I got the driver out and moved her to safety, she’s unconscious. Her breathing is rapid and uneven. She’s bleeding a lot of blood from a large wound. Get an ambulance to State Street now. It’s at mile marker 55.”

“We are sending help to your location right away. Stay on the phone, monitor her breathing, and make sure you apply direct pressure to the site of the bleeding with any gauze, but sterile clothing is an option.” After a minute pause young woman call operator adds with a tone of haste, putting my wolf more on edge, “Help is 10 minutes out from your location and is in route.” His restless pacing inside me is driving me crazy and making it difficult to focus on _my_ fragile woman’s needs.

_ My? She’s not mine. _I think to myself, but my wolf growls louder at the last sentence.

_ She is ours. Help her. Save her. Or I will make you regret it, man. _His grunted threat and demands ring in my ears as the growl cannot silence my confusion.

I ignore the woman’s response, hang up the phone, and place it on the ground beside me. I rip off the bottom of my shirt in sections and as the shredding sound fills the air, I wrap one strand of material tightly above the gash on her left thigh. I’ve seen my dad do this to a local townie that thought he could beat my brother, by bringing a knife to a fist fight, he started.

As time continues to pass by slowly, I can’t stop myself from staring at her beautiful face. Her long, wavy, light brown hair falling carefully around her pale face and frame, reaching her mid-torso. Her hair is drastically sprayed across the earth and body are now the darkest brown I have ever seen possible. Its elegance doesn’t mask that it’s soft as silk. Her body is covered in soot, masking her ivory skin color. Her long, delicate black eyelashes shielding her closed eyes from the chaos around her. I gently trace along her defined jawline with my eyes as she violently gasps for the air that should be entering her lungs. I follow down her proportionally straight nose toward her full lips as they begin to turn a faint blue from the biting cold and lack of oxygen. I scoop her up into my arms and try to pull her up against my chest to create a bundle of warmth from my own. Her body shivers on impact. The feel of her trembling plows through my chest like a spear as my heart aches and breaks for this young woman.

I look down at my blood-covered hands and can’t control their shake. My body trembles along with my hands at the sight and thought of her suffering. I don’t understand why, I have seen blood all my life and I have never been squeamish about it. But the sight of all this brings lumps of fear and nausea to my throat.

While lost in a train of thought, I miss the sound of the sirens until they are parking. Paramedics’ swinging the back doors open rip me from within my mind. They rush over to her with a gurney and lift her body onto it, while trying to push me out of the way as they take over. When they touched her skin, she groaned and cringed under the weight of their hands and the pain they brought on. As they wheel her toward the only ambulance, I run ahead and climb in to the small seat along the wall. The entire emergency response team yell at me to get out. They’re all furious at the fact that a high schooler is being problematic, but I don’t care. They are only alive to help her. The fact is what’s keeping my wolf from tearing into their throats for causing her pain

I look them square in the eyes, “I’m the only witness who can give a statement and her family isn’t here.” I move my eyes to her still body and say, “she shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.” I feel a menacing snarl and a growl worthy of a future Alpha, “She is mine and no one can stop me from going with her. She is MINE! You will NOT cause more harm, or you will regret it!”

The hush of their silence as they wheel her gurney into the ambulance is my answer. They can sense my dominance over them even with no knowledge or understanding why. The slam of the doors shut behind them. They turn on the sirens and rush to the hospital.

* * *

I visit her hospital room every day whenever I can, before school or after practice, and I have rarely seen her family. I had to lies to the doctor to see her by saying I’m her boyfriend. They thankfully didn’t question it after I yelled at the paramedics that she was mine. I still don’t want to look too deeply into that thought right now. I’m just worried about her progress and I desperately keep praying that she’ll be okay. I _need_ her to be okay. She hasn’t woken up from her coma since I saved her from her burning car. I understand her body needing to heal, but I need her to wake up so I can meet her. One day after days of private visits, the door violently swings open. Jumping from my chair into a protective stance blocking my girl from the three boisterously cackling friends toppling into the room. They stop in their tracks, bumping into each other’s backs, and one of the women steps back while avoiding my eyes. The others stare at my chest or shoulder in instinct to my dominance over their Mortal status in the hierarchy of the supernatural food-chain.

I tilt my head in a wolf-like manner too focus on their physical signs of emotions. Quickened heart beats, perspiration on their hands and necks, and one woman’s shaky hand. They are snapped out of the confused and startled stupor when the shortest woman introduces herself, creating a chain reaction.

The 5’3” Serbian/Columbian girl with long mahogany brown hair and scandalous brown eyes walks up to me first. As she extends her hand, she smiles, “I’m Davina Zaja Petrović.” I notice that her olive-colored skin makes my slightly sun-kissed skin look pale in comparison as I accept her handshake. Her long dress was tight on her torso then turned flowy from her hips down accenting her curvy figure. Her mesomorphic body accentuates her hourglass figure and is exponentially more noticeable on her toned legs and arms. I’ve seen her at school, and I’ve heard great things from peers, but she sticks with her friends. She walks away to allow the next girl to walk up to her bed side.

“I’m Thea Fable,” her kind hazel eyes and warm voice are the first thing I notice about her. Standing 5’10” tall with a straight body frame, she conceals them with sweatpants and an old marathon tee shirt that she must have ran years ago. Her comfort in her own skin is what everyone strives for. Before she can turn to walk away, her awkward and uncomfortable laugh distracts me from the sudden whiplash in the face caused by her long, slightly wavy blonde/brown hair.

The last one of the mystery girl’s friends walks over and instead of shaking my hand, she squeezed my bicep muscles. “I’m Skylar Davis but you can call me Skye,” the 5’7” girl with black curly hair and a model-like body suggestively flirts with a perfected wink.

Thea retorts to her comment with a loud laugh, “Everyone calls you Skye, you idiot. There is no reason to make it dirty.” She looks at me and adds, “Ignore her. She makes everything dirty.”

“Hey! Don’t take away the fun,” she huffs out with a scoff. Her dark wash blue jeans have so many slits and holes in them that I’m beyond confused as to where I should look. Her snug grey tank top is way too revealing and has an unbuttoned blue-grey flannel covering her shoulders. She pouts then laughs a deep laugh, “I can make anything fun.” She winks again with her amber colored eyes at me.

I shift on my feet, feeling uncomfortable and on edge. _What do I do now? I don’t want to be here with them around..._ _I should leave and go home. I’ve got stuff, I guess, I could do._ Leaving now would be my safest bet.

I start to walk out the door to leave them be with their friend as Skye calls out to me, “Don’t you want to know her name?”

I turn to look her in the eye, “How did you know I didn’t read her chart?”

“I’m good at reading people. You are too old fashioned, too gentleman-like to do something like snooping on personal documents.”

“Yeah. I would like to know,” I reply keeping my eyes glued to the door, while still accepting the accurate read from the provocatively dress girl. Just before I leave the room, I turn to see who’s going to respond.

“Her name is Morgan and, I have to say, I think she is going to like you.” Davina hollers quickly as I back out the door.


	4. Hey, Who Are You

MORGAN

I WAKE UP in an all-white room with a loud, consistently steady, and irritating beeping noise. My skin feels itchy and frankly, I’m beyond confused. I’m so frazzled on what the hell happened and why I’m in a paper-thin gown. I can’t put my finger what exactly happened or why I am here, but I think it’ll come back to me once my mind can clear from this fog. I close my eyes and allow my thoughts to detangle bit by bit.

I think I’m in a hospital… _Why am I all alone in the room though?_ There are no nurses, no doctors, and no family members insight. Just as that thought passes, my friend, Althea bursts into my room. She lunges at me with accidentally aggressive excitement and flings her arms around me. The contact of her arms on my sore body hurts my ribs and intensifies the itch in my skin. Thea has always been there for me after our moms met and gave birth to us a little over nine months apart. Through thick and thin, we’ve had each other’s back. That’s what you do for your best friend; she’s my sister by choice. Now, even if we wanted to be rid of each other, it’s too late.

She asks frantically without taking a single breath in. “Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt? What happened? Thank goodness you are alright! Are you okay? Do you need the nurse?”

I reply as I push her hair out of my mouth and prying her arms off my hurting ribs. “I’m okay Thea. Really, I’m fine!” I cough before a sputter comes from my lips, “Your hair is falling in my mouth.”

She pulls away and let go of her death grip hug, “Oh sorry! Are you sure you’re okay?”

“My ribs hurt but I’m fine. Can you hand me my medical chart? It’s on the front of the bed.”

“Sure,” she responds as she hands me my chart.

I look at what the chart says, “5’8” female, mid-teens, went into hypovolemic shock and was found unconscious after a car accident. However, she was responsive to painful stimuli. She had no pulse in her left peroneal pulse but present right peroneal pulse. A 3” deep 4” long gash in the left thigh, collapsed right lung on impact from the airbag, and abdominal swelling. Emergency surgery to stop internal bleeding. She never regained consciousness after surgery.”

I slump down in shock as I process the severity of my car crash depicted by the chart. As I’m struggling to cope with what happened that night, as my memories pile on top of each other, I remember the figure in the road. “Thea, I hit something. That’s what caused the accident. Did you hear anything about the accident?”

“Oh, my gosh! Is that true? Did anyone get hurt? Can you tell me what happened that night?”

“Yeah, Thea. I wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t true,” I retort sarcastically to her. “I remember the fog made it impossible to see. Then out of nowhere, a dark figure appeared, and I couldn’t stop the car in time. That’s all I can remember before now.”

She huffs out a sigh, “Well, all I know is that someone called 911. Was there someone in the car with you?”

“No, I was driving home alone.” Laying there, I begin to wonder who called 911, how I got out of my car, who the figure was, and if he/she/it was okay. As time passes by, I tune everyone and everything out. Until Thea taps on my shoulder to pull me out of my trance.

“Hey, I’m going to go home but Skylar, Davina, and I visited you every day. Just thought you should know…” She walks toward the door but lingering in the doorway she adds, “Also, some guy came and visited you every day too. I promise Skye didn’t scare him too badly. We met him and talked a little, but he seems nice.”

She leaves before I can respond. I look down and see most of the wires, that was initially there, are now gone. Well after Thea went home and after my parent’s brief five minute-visit to lecture me on driving safer, they went home too. I am alone. Irrefutably, complexly, and comfortingly alone. The way I prefer it at times. There’s a knock on the door sending me to jump in my place as the boy I saw at school tip-toe in. I sit up abruptly in shock. He is here, he’s actually here. I feel my stomach twist into knots and my heart beats out of my chest. Then, I feel those damn butterflies frolic in my body. The person I could not stop thinking about. I can’t believe he’s really here.

I now know how long I was in that coma, and during that time, I kept having this reoccurring dream of us together. We were just doing every day, nothing out of the ordinary things. We were laying down on the couch watching Harry Potter, eating popcorn and pizza. His arms were wrapped around me and held me close to his chest or my head laying in his lap. Then the dream changed to us laying, cuddling, under the night sky watching the stars above. They just kept alternating. _Pretty damn good dreams for a coma, _I thought to myself, but every time it crossed my mind, it would change for the worse. It would get dark and cruel. I was driving, I kept killing that innocent person, and I had to relive the crushing pain I felt on impact from the airbag and I constantly heard the body thudding onto the ground in my ears. I had to relive it on a loop. When I was about to break, it would change to Adam. I got to live in my good dreams until I started to feel at peace. The second I felt it, it would flashback to me behind the wheel.

I frantically ask him while trying to hide all emotion, but I cannot ignore how fast my butterflies are flapping their wings. I feel more comfortable than I normally feel with him here, “Hey, who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Hi, I’m Adam Hunt. I saw the accident and I called 911. I have been checking on you every day since then. Are you okay?” He steps inside the door and shoves his hands in his pockets and tucking his elbows in, trying to appear smaller than he actually is.

“I’m okay. Sorry for freaking out a little bit and for not introducing myself. I’m Morgan Taeyeon. Did you see the accident? Did you see what I hit?” I drape one arm out while clinging to the forearm with the other, in my go to nervous-needing-comfort tick. I revert to that position without thinking and I watch this tall man attempt to appear like a mouse to approach one.

“It’s okay, you don’t really know me and having a stranger in your hospital room would be scary. I get it…” He pauses and adjusts his weight from one foot to the other. Then adding, “Oh, and I did see what happened. You hit someone in the middle of the road. Right after they were hit, they disappeared. And to answer your earlier question of why I’m here, I saw you at school and there was something about you that was unforgettable, then I heard the crash and saw the car catch on fire. I ran over and pulled you out of the car. I waited for the ambulance and I never left your side except when the doctors made me wait in the waiting area for them to examine you. I waited in the hallway until they let me come back in.”

Clearing his throat, he steps back toward the door. “I just paced back and forth. It was so stressful, I was just so worried. What’s actually kind of funny is that they stopped telling me things. I, uh, had to lie to the doctors to let me know any updates once your parents showed up. I never saw them, but I had to say I was your fiancé to get anything from them.”

I nod my head, confused by his words, but I remain silent as they process in my brain. _Fiancé? What? Why would he lie and say that? I mean a friend would get told updates without an adult present right? Well, I guess they wouldn’t since we’re minors… But fiancé? Of all things? Not even boyfriend?_

He goes on, “I said that we were secretly engaged because we hadn’t broken the news yet, and surprisingly some of the nurses are hopeless romantics. I didn’t know that, so they let me be updated on the down-low… Coming by every day to look out for you and check on you made them not question it, apparently. But one day your friends...” His voice trails off, probably remembering my crazy, chaotic friends. Without realizing it he moves closer to my bedside, towering over me with a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. 

Trying to place the emotion in his gorgeous green eyes I ask in disbelief, “Really?” _It’s not pity, I’ve seen that too many times. Adoration? Desire? That can’t be right._ “Thank you really... I’m so sorry if my friends, and by friends, I mean Skye, said something. She can come off a bit strong, but she is just messing with you. She means well but her mind is just wired that way.” I can’t help but laugh despite my lungs feeling like they’re being stabbed by ribs.

He reaches out and softly touches my forearm concerned, as I wince in pain. Just as quickly as he had placed his hand, he pulls it away awkwardly. He drops it in what looks like embarrassment. _Is he embarrassed he touched me? Am I really that bad? _He stumbles to regain his composure, “Um, yeah…She is a little bold, but just a little.” He chuckles to himself, probably at the fact that such a small girl, like Skye, made him feel so uneasy. The sarcasm wasn’t in his tone but by his words, you can tell.

“Hey, come co- sit,” I stutter motioning to the edge of my bed. I don’t know why I just did that but it’s too late to change my mind now. I move my legs to the far-right side of the bed to make room for him. He takes a step closer to my hospital bed and sits down by my left side. I pull myself up to sit more comfortably.

He looks at me with the same look I have never seen before. He notices me briefly staring then drops his eyes to his hands. I can’t tell if he is confused about how he feels, or is embarrassed about my staring, or if he’s just uncomfortable, or if he is just awkward when it comes to girls. I mean I can relate to being awkward around the opposite sex. I live in awkward.

To break the awkward silence we both created, I ask him, “What did my friends say to you anyway? Thea mentioned you guys met. She never said what you talked about or your name either.”

He laughs and replies, “I didn’t tell them my name. Skylar said that I could call her Skye, but you know very suggestively. Your friends are something else.”

“Oh, you have no idea. You met them briefly, try being friends with them for 16 years.”

“I wouldn’t be able to handle them,” he admits candidly, finally looking up from his hands.

“I can’t for long periods of time. I have to get away from them by visiting my secret place or Баба, my grandma.”

“How do you do it? Their personalities are so big when their alone but together it’s like a hurricane of confusion.”

I laugh at how true his words are, “Sometimes you just have to nod and smile and pretend that you understand a single word that comes out of their mouths.”

He asks me bluntly, “How are you friends with them? You are much more mellow and different then they are.”

I think to myself, _If only you knew how different. _I say quickly to hide my inner comment, “Honestly I don’t know. Thea and I have been best friends since birth, we just click really well, I guess. While Davina is the polar opposite from her. Thea is light-hearted, hopeful, optimistic, all rainbows and sunshine, moral compass, and encouraging while Davina is brutally honest, level headed, realistically minded, knowledgeable, resourceful, and because she’s the ‘here’s the truth, now listen’ type of person, she lacks tact. I can’t have a better friend and cousin than her. Skye, on the other hand, is cunning, sexy, and a risk-taker/daring type of girl. She always gets us in trouble then Davina has to find a way to get us out of it. We fight sometimes, more like a lot, but we always have each other’s backs.”

“So, what kind of friend are you in that dynamic?” he asks me slightly flirtatiously, I think trying to know more about me.

“They say I’m fiercely loyal, emotionally powerful, and brave. I don’t see the last one though.” I laugh wincing in pain. I shiver, just noticing the temperature drop within the room. Adam raises his black, Clementine High School Varsity Football hoodie over his head. He made it right-side out and tries to hand it to me.

“No, I’m okay,” In an attempt to refuse, I push it back to him.

“Take it. You’re cold and don’t lie about it. I will know, it's my superpower.”

“Superpower? Really?” I tease with a raised eyebrow.

“Believe me if you want but it’s true,” he says but now he commands me, “Take it now.”

I cave and sigh irritated, “Fine. Give me that.”

He hands it to me and grins in victory. _Cheeky victory grin. Ugh._ I struggle to put it over my head and cover my body. It hurts to put my arms through the sleeves. I cringe and hold my breath, trying to mask my pain.

“Let me,” he offers as he reaches out to help. A deep blush spreads across my cheeks and a small smile emerges. He pulls the sleeve out with one hand while he gently guides my arm through with the other. He goes one at a time and slowly with gentle delicacy. His hand trails to my back, lowering the hoodie inch by inch. I hold my breath from the closeness of his hand to my partially exposed back is making me breathe heavier. My blue hospital gown, shielding my rectangle figure, makes me really aware of my body and surroundings.

As he pulls it down, covering my back, I inhale and say, “Thanks, you know for the help and the hoodie.” I close my eyes briefly to compose myself from his intense gaze. There’s such a strong flame of heat in his eyes and they’re frankly overwhelming sexy.

“It’s no big deal. Happy to help,” he says as he put his hand on left my shoulder and ran his hand slowly down my arm. The simple act, not meant to be sensual, sends chills down my spine. I gaze into his deep, enchantingly green eyes with surprise and fear, fear of this closeness and his touch’s effect on me. I have never experienced something like this with a man before. I see a flash within his eyes and for a split second, it looked as if they changed colors from a deep green to glowing emerald green. The glow of a beast, a hunter, a predator, a wolf. A green so bright that it’s inhuman. In a blink of an eye, his eyes change back to the deep green, still looking unnatural, as quickly as they changed.

As he looks deeply into my reflective, light blue eyes, I fee; so safe and warm being with a complete stranger. He leans in closer to me until he rests his head on mine gently. I feel his body’s warmth radiating off him, filling my body with dozens of butterflies. Then his captivatingly intoxicating and unique scent hits my nose. The aroma of fresh coffee and lemons sends my mind into a buzzing stupor.


	5. This Is Not The Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam's point of view picking up right where the last chapter left off.

ADAM

DEEP INSTINCTS INSIDE OF ME take over. The need to touch her, protect her, and hold her are crippling my will power of not coming on to strong. I can’t control myself as I slide the side of my pointer finger down the edge of her face and stop at her chin. Her eyes widen with shock of my actions, but her shudder does not go unnoticed my wolf. He forces his way past my human think and a growl slips through my lips. He starts taking over and initiating affection meant for a wife and not a stranger.

I gently grab her chin and pull her body. She doesn’t fight it. She doesn’t fight my unusual actions. She lets me pull her under my arms. _It’s as if she’s done it a million times before. _I thought to myself, _she looks good in my hoodie. I like that she’s covered in my scent. Now everyone will know she’s mine._ I hold her tightly to my body, as if to make room within my skin for her to take a seat. I hear and feel her heart beating and every single one of her rapid breath against my chest. Filling my lungs with a deep breath of her scent, rose and fresh rain take over every oxygen molecule without resistance. As I start aimlessly tracing shapes on her back, her precious eyes flutter shut. _Hmm_, she purrs out and rests her head on my chest, while her small hand cautiously creeps its way up to my abdomen’s shirt.

_ Yes, finally. It’s here. Peace. Skin on skin peace._ My wolf settles and for the first time in all my life. It’s odd how right it feels to have her in my arms. As if my arms were made for her and her body was made perfectly to fix against mine, two puzzle pieces coming together to reveal a beautiful picture.

“Ahem,” someone clears their throat behind us, drawing attention to the fact that we’re not alone anymore. Morgan jolts out of my arms, creating as much distance as possible. However, she underestimates the amount of bed left and nose dives toward the floor. I catch her by the waist and pull her flailing arms before her head collides with concrete. The squeal at a painful volume hurts my sensitive ears and her fumbling hands paw at my arm to pull her up faster, but she can’t get a solid grip. With a harsh yank, I drag her body upright, but I pulled too hard and in an awkward haze she crumbles into my lap. Her head hits my thighs and an “Oof” comes from her before a sharp inhale is brought on by her pain.

She starts blushing when she sees who’s at the door, but that’s not my concern. Her pain sends me a shot to the heart with an equally awful pain of its own. I turn around and see Skye posed in the door frame, leaning with her elbow high in the sky and a hand to her head. She speaks unfazed and in a teasing manner, “Morgan I’m impressed with you! You got a hot piece of ass like that unconscious; I’d like to see who you could get awake.”

I growl in displeasure at the idea of Morgan with another guy. I stop myself, hoping nobody noticed, but I was too late. _Why did I just do that? Why am I being possessive about Morgan, I just met her? It’s just an innocent crush._ Just then I hear loud footsteps coming down the hall. Four thudding feet sounds like two people in a hurry. Davina runs in and wheezes through her excessive panting and gasping for air, “why did you already say something! I wanted to see Morgan blush. But from the looks of it, I didn’t miss a thing.” As she remarks that Morgan’s face turns an even brighter shade of red, simultaneously spreading down her neck. Davina turns to me and decides to make it worse for her by adding, “See, I told you she would like you.”

Morgan scrutinizes me, for not mentioning that comment, with her steely scowl and raging fire fueled for her soul. _Now I see why her friends think she is emotionally powerful._ A small wave in her hair starts to wrap itself into a ringlet from a non-existent breeze. I revert my eyes to Davina and shoot her a look much scarier than Morgan’s, with my eyes taking on a subtle but intimidating glow. _Any glow would be intimidating to Mortals._ A whimper escapes Davina’s mouth before dropping her eyes under the intensity of my dominant stare. Looking back at Morgan, her face once more buried and hidden in embarrassment.

“Put those panty-dropping eyes away. Do tell what we are now talking about,” Skye walks over to us and dives onto her belly between us. She turns to her right side before speaking again. She looks at me and she props up on her right elbow, “So, how do I get myself one of you.” She looks me up and down. I feel uneasy around Skye, so I get up and move against the wall to put some space between us. I cross my arms and lean back trying to look natural.

Something doesn’t sit right with my wolf and that girl. She reeks of Darkness. The thoughts cross my mind, where my wolf growls in agreement, before the small voice from the car accident slips every other thing onto the back burner.

_ Why did he move? _I hear the thought in my head. That sounds like her voice, but I don’t understand how that’s possible. It was just like her cry for help when she got in her car accident. Morgan looks at me, the readable hurt by me leaving her side is evident, but she tries to hide her gaze by looking down at her hands. I bet she does that a lot. She seems as confused and out of control with her actions as I am with my own.

Morgan breathes in and out slowly, trying to regain composure, but when she finally speaks with a steady voice, “I didn’t know you were coming to visit.” The steadiness revealed her true emotions, annoyance with a hint of intimidation. _Why would she be friends with someone she fears?_

“We couldn’t let Thea be the only one who visited you,” Davina says as she sits at the foot of the bed, right on top of Morgan’s feet. “What were you guys talking about?” Morgan pulls them out from under her and pulls them close against her chest. She conceals her pain well, but I see through her masterfully crafted mask, while her friends are either oblivious or simply choosing to ignore it. _I wonder if she lets people in… Why does she stir up my wolf? Why do I want to take all her pain away for the rest of my life?_ Morgan, still clinging to her bare and banged up calves, acts as if her legs can transform into a shield and protect her from their jokes that hit a little too close to home. She huffs quietly and twirls some of the thin fabric that they call a dress.

“Nothing,” I shut her down, pulling the attention off an on-edge Morgan, from their questioning and berating. I don’t say anything else after that. I walk toward them, standing as tall and confident as I can seemingly be. I lean in and whisper in Morgan’s ear softly, so soft that Skye and Davina can’t ease drop, “I’m going to leave, so you guys can talk.”

She grabs my hand and the panic in her eyes tell me the truth, she doesn’t want me to leave. Skye catches her look and raises her eyebrow. “Interesting,” she mumbles quietly to herself.

I then whispered to Morgan, “Okay. I will stay for a little longer but I’m going to be in that corner,” I say as I point to the corner behind me.

She shakes her head, “That’s too far away.” She stumbles over her words trying to make sense of what just came out of her mouth. “I need someone normal close by to keep me sane. I can only handle so much attention being on me.” She speaks with sincerity. “I’m tired and you can keep them entertained.” She flashes me a pleading grin at me and for some reason I can’t refuse her smile.

I stand up, lengthening my spine, and say to her, “Fine. Is this close enough?”

She shakes her head again. She pats on the bed next to her and I, once again, listen.

I squeeze onto the mattress with her shoulder tucked against my side touching. I wrap my arm behind her neck to make more room for my large body, in an attempt to prevent myself from sliding off the edge. I whisper to her, “I just don’t want to accidentally hurt you. I also don’t want them to get any ideas in their already messed-up heads.”

“I can take care of that, you won’t hurt me,” she says confidently, giving her friends a look, warning them not to go there. “As for the ideas, they had theories running the second they saw you in here.”

Silence began to settle over the room. Giving Skye more time to come up of theories. From secretly dating, _I wish,_ to sex buddies and most likely the thought of us being “just friends” didn’t come to mind.

She looks at me right after I thought “I wish” to myself. The confusion on her face tells me she heard my self-commentary but that’s not possible. I mean it is weird how open I want to be with her, despite barely being around her. She couldn’t have heard something behind me, the room is silent.

Davina finally breaks her silence and says, “Tell us something about yourself,” she pauses trying to remember my name despite the fact that I never told them. “You never told us your name.”

Morgan speaks up before I can, “It’s Adam.”

“Yeah, I’m Adam Hunt.” I look at her wondering what is going on inside of her head.

“I’m on the _hunt_ for some alone time with you,” Skye flirts seductively while leaning forward, trying to flash me more cleavage than what was already spilling out the top of her v-neck.

While Davina breaks down laughing, Morgan gives her a very unladylike fingered gesture. Her eyes start to turn dark blue. The wind outside the window begins to howl and snow begins to fall violently to the ground. She hisses out through clenched teeth, “This is not the time Skye. Can we have a serious conversation for once without your innuendos?”

Davina tries to stop a fight that Morgan can’t win from occurring by directing attention back on me, “No, really, tell us something about yourself.”

“I play football and I go to your school.” I let my hand slide down her arm in an effort to calm her. She lets out a deep and controlled breath as I apply small amount of pressure to our skin on skin contact.

“Who’s?” Davina asks cutting Skye off from saying something that will cause more issues about my touchy-touchy demeanor toward her. The wind outside dies down and I notice the snow falling upon the ground elegantly and delicately after the abrupt weather change. Davina continues to draw my attention back to her, “Skye and Thea go to Clementine High and Morgan and I go to Rocky Medical Arts.”

“Mine,” Morgan chimes in.

Skye’s face expresses a hidden plot that she surely is forming before her eyes can reveal themselves, “Now this will be good.”

Davina laughs and gives Skye a high-five. She exclaims, “True!”

Morgan and I shake our heads at them. Time passes while Davina and Skype keep laughing and making a lot of noise. They continue chatting, laughing, and picking on Morgan, and each other.

I attempt to talk to Morgan, but I don’t know what to say. I readjust my hand’s grip out of nerves. I start to analyze Morgan’s posture and body language hoping for some secret tell of how she is feeling…about me and our bodies being so close. _What makes me so entranced by this small woman? Why do I want to know everything about her? Why am I so concerned about how she feels about me? I’m never this insecure about anything._

I’m a complete stranger and yet I feel like we are already so close to each other, a feeling of being whole for the first time in my life is putting me in a trance.

Davina taps me on my shoulder, pulling me out of my head, and I look at her. She whispers to me, “Morgan likes cats, dogs, painting, reading, and poetry. When we leave and you guys are alone, those are some topics you can bring up.”

“Thank you,” I give her a nod of gratitude.

Just as I’m about to bring up poetry, a young, African American, male nurse comes into the room and shouts, “Everyone in this room needs to shut up and listen for a second!”

Skye looks him up and down, “Well hello handsome.” She smiles flirtatiously, and she turns her seductive charm on. She walks over to the nurse and puts a hand on his muscles protruding from his scrubs, “How can we help you?”

“You can help by leaving now visiting hours are over and I need to do my routine nightly check-up.”

“Alright, we’ll go but only if you give me your number.” Her hazel eyes scream ‘Do whatever you want to me’. Even in the little time I knew her, this was normal for her. It was normal for her to throw herself at every guy she deems attractive enough for her standards. I thought _poor guy. He’s her new play-thing._

_ You have no idea._

It sounds like Morgan again but that has never happened before with anyone else before.

Davina walks up behind her and drags her off of the nurse. Davina says, “Let’s go hoe. You don’t want to scare off the nice nurse who’s going to help Morgan. She just woke up from a coma, okay? She needs to be checked out so she can go home sooner, okay?”

“Fine,” Skye whines as they walked out.

I stay in my spot because the second I try to get up, I realize Morgan’s fallen asleep on my shoulder. I carefully lift her head and wrap my other arm around her body. I gently lay her previously upright body down and tuck her in. I push the edges of the blanket under her small body. I look at her beautiful, peaceful face. I feel an uncontrollably strong urge to kiss her goodnight. I lean down and let my lips meet her forehead in an intimate, yet innocent, claiming kiss. My lips barely keep contact for longer than a few seconds, before I pull them away.

“Goodnight. I will come visit you again tomorrow. I’m eager to learn everything about you, because I know you and I will never be the same after this,” I whisper to her, knowing she won’t remember anything I’m saying when morning comes.


End file.
